There is a point in a journey when you get past the point of a retreat either making sense or being easier. I reached that point last night at around 11pm in the tiny town of Nysted and it’s a fantastic feeling, I can but move forward.

At the time, I had just had my third telling off of the day, this time for arriving far too late to the campsite (for which I apologised, I had been travelling for 8 hours and got caught in lots of German traffic). He was unmoved. It was late, I still couldn’t find first gear and had just realised I had been driving for 30 minutes with my handbrake on :0

I wanted to cry and I certainly did not want to get the bed ready in the dark with no water on my pitch. So I left and parked in the town’s car park. I read the ‘no camping’ sign and just couldn’t do it, I decided I would drive on if I had to, I presume this was an extreme (and utterly irrational) reaction to my tellings off.

I restarted the car (in gear). It made a loud bang*. The town was then awake and I was convinced Kitty was dead. Google soothed my nerves by giving me the number of the hotel opposite. ‘I’m sorry, we don’t allow dogs and we are actually over-booked tonight and it’s too late anyway’. I was confused. Two to a bed? I did not argue. I remembered driving past a hotel on my way to the harbour. I called them. Pet friendly AND a room free. Yey! 🙂 I drove up, parked opposite and we got settled into the boiling hot yet very welcome room. I decided to very quietly bring the car closer to the room (it was motel -style with cars out front). The dogs were obediently quiet and I crept around the corner. I overshot, this meant I needed reverse…CRUNCH…I eventually found it, then leant forward…HONK…mortified :0, I finally parked her and tiptoed back to the room. I couldn’t bear another telling off…

As an aside, I honked three times today and only once was on purpose while reversing. I haven’t set my alarm off in days though 😉

The earlier tellings off were interesting only in the fact that people do tend to go for angry as their first emotion rather than kind which is interesting when you are trying to get someone to do something. One involved rubbish and in good news, I have forgotten the second but it might have been when I ran the red light at the ferry terminal and had to reverse all the way back. ‘ You’re waving a tobacco voucher at me’ he said when I told him I had evidence of having been told to be in that lane, ‘ Oh yes I am, sorry’ was my inspired reply. They let me go first on the next one 😀

As most of you know, this Moomin Pilgrimage (much more on those lovely creatures mid-week) isn’t just about my hugging all my favourite Scandinavians while going back to basics, living in a van with no cool air or heating (it says heating but I feel nothing) and peeing in a chemical toilet. In fact, those I have already caught up with will testify, I don’t do all those things at the same time anyway.

First of all this trip is about proving I can do it; or not. Maybe I can’t and in that case, that will also be the point. It is about having to ask for help, finding new and creative ways to do my physio (seriously, it is working wonders on my flexibility) and testing my emotional and physical limits. I know, I know. I’m not climbing Kilimanjaro. I’m doing an intensive, advanced driving course in a van [which is making 75% of the people who drive or walk past it smile or wave 😀 ] while trying to catch two slippery eels (that’s the dogs) which, if described thus, would not be likely to generate much sponsorship and does sound rather odd.

I might hop around the timeline a little with these posts. I had my first drive over the famous BRON:BROEN:THE BRIDGE tonight. It is much less windy than the one in Northern Germany and just as impressive as it looks on TV. I’m not sure what kind of police force would require emergencies to be attended by a fairly slow pink van being driven by an imbecile but I imagined that’s what I was doing anyway.

*It may seem to the reader than either I have broken my van or it is broken. The former might be in progress but the latter is not the case. I have been saved today and confidence buoyed by a Facebook Group of gorgeous people, all of whom drive Brazilian Bay Kampers so know what they are doing. Having raised a few of my issues (read: all of them), I am already better informed, reassured, virtually cuddled and getting much clearer on how to get better at this. Better packing and unpacking is the next challenge.

It is chilly in the van now, my tummy is still full from a delicious lunch with Omar, Anne and mini Hugo in Copenhagen and we’re now in Sweden where my lovely driveway hosts Annelie and Magnus have supplied me with filling for my hot water bottle (sic) and even power! Plus I have relearned how to stop a van sliding down a hill if you don’t think your handbrake will work, or at least I hope I have, as long as Filou stops wriggling we will avoid ending up in the paddock across the road. Wish us luck. Reversing out in the morning to head north-east through Sweden will be fun. The rain is tapping on our little roof and there’s no-where I would rather be ♥.

PS Twice today, I gave an ETA and then arrived at exactly my ETA. I realise this is normal but it is not for me. This is growth. Is it? Or is that too intense a word for something so basic? I think it’s just better planning.